


weight of living

by craftingdead



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied Relationships, Major Character Injury, you're not MY nick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 07:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16656688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craftingdead/pseuds/craftingdead
Summary: He falls to earth hard.





	weight of living

**Author's Note:**

> guess who watched nick&jon show :)  
> title from a bastille song

It’s a quick death.

A jolt of the body, shock riding up his spine, a bullet through the heart, a bullet through the spine. Ashlie brings her hands to her mouth and covers its silent scream, eyes wider than the bullet falling to earth. You swear you watch in slow motion as the gore rips out from his back, a painted scene of red and pink, colors that never matched.

He falls to earth hard.

Blood is spreading in a pool from his back. Staining the green grass red. It spreads further and further as you turn to face him, his face set in an expression of pure… nothingness. There is no known expression on his face, sure as hell not one you know, but it looks… it looks… it’s horrible. Your best friend’s polar twin looks at him in shock; the robot does too, as much as a robot can. He lowers the gun to earth, looking down along with it then to you, a monotone voice: “Let’s go.”

Ashlie sobs and falls to her knees. Wails of “How COULD you?” escaping from her lips. He returns with his own statement, the words dribbling from his maw like gore from your best friend’s back. He is still lying there, still as death, pale as marble.

“Let’s _go_.” It’s forceful this time. He grabs your arm. Points the gun at her head, gestures you along with it as well.

Your hand forms a fist. He fingers the trigger, switching it from Ashlie to your back, pushing you along. You spin around, a scream ripping from your throat as you hit him. A loud crack sounds as his face turns to the side, blood expelling from his nose in a slow-motion scene that feels like it should be funny but isn’t. His friends don’t stop you as you straddle his waist and give another crack to his face, and another, and another. Your knuckles are bruised and bloody but there isn’t a goddamn thing that could stop you; no man nor woman could pull you off him. Why stop for bloody and bruising fists?

He fights back. Reaches for the gun expelled to the side. You lunge for it too, legs slipping off of his body as your hand wraps around it. Ashlie is screaming. You point it to his head.

A close-lipped smile. “You won’t.

A pulled back sneer. “ _You bet_?”


End file.
